


loser (stenbrough)

by aesop_rock



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No IT (King), Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angry Bill, Angsty Bill Denbrough, Bill Denbrough Loves Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough-centric, Bill POV, Gay, Gay Bill Denbrough, Gay Male Character, Gay Stanley Uris, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mike Hanlon & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Mike Hanlon Deserves Nice Things, Mike Hanlon Isn't Homeschooled, Mike Hanlon is a Good Friend, No Sex, No Smut, No Underage Sex, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Stan POV, Stanley Uris Loves Birds, Stanley Uris-centric, Texting, Writer Bill Denbrough, bill gets bullied, bill has a stutter, gay relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-10-10 19:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20532995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesop_rock/pseuds/aesop_rock
Summary: a stenbrough fanfic, written to celebrate the release of it: chapter two.published 9/5/19 - 10/25/19





	1. One

“billy’s got a new message! what is it, a nude?” 

i look over to see that richie had stolen my phone and was now staring down at my notifications. “give me th-thuh-that,” i snap. reaching over to grab my phone back from him, i realize that it wasn’t a chat that was sent to me, but instead someone adding me on snapchat named stanley. i added them back without thinking.

richie turned to eddie and snickered. eddie hadn’t paid attention. instead he was staring off into space. rather, at henry’s house. henry bowers’ place was a little run down, not surprising considering nobody took care of it. his dad was an alcoholic and henry wasn’t going to do extra work. maybe that’s why he was so angry, his dad drank and he lived in a shithole. “you think henry’s in there?” richie asked, nudging eddie. “if he is, we better head home fast. next time we need to bring our bikes.”

i wished i had brought silver today, but it was the first day of school, so richie and i decided not to. the walk home was boring, and i could only assume as we progressed through the school year that it wouldn’t get much more interesting than this.

eddie finally turned to look at us. “bye guys. pray for me, i have to visit my aunt this saturday.” i felt a little bad for him. his aunts were mostly just decoys of his own mother- way too protective of eddie, and way too touchy.. but then again, we all had to deal with relatives. i had to deal with my racist uncles sometimes.

“the hot one?” richie teased, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. eddie didn’t have any hot aunts as far as i remembered. they were eddie’s mom’s sisters, for god's sake. “tell her i said hi.” eddie groaned and walked down his street, leaving us standing on the sidewalk. 

conversation died down a little between us, until we passed that old house on neibolt street. “hey, maybe if we cleaned that place out and got rid of all the crackwhores, it could be a nice little hideout. you, me, eds, beverly, your little snapchat boyfriend-” i elbowed him in the side. hard. richie was surprisingly accepting of me being gay, but he couldn’t help making jokes here and there. not that i told him i was gay or anything, it was more like he got it out of me. he always had a way of finding everything out. sometimes it scared me.

“i don’t even know anyone named suh-st-stan. do you?” i asked. derry was small, so i knew all of the people in my grade. richie, eddie, ben, beverly and i were just starting off our sophomore year. it wasn’t as exciting as my freshman year, to be honest.

richie shrugged, glancing down at my phone. “show me his profile, maybe i’ll recognize something.” he held out his hand, and like a total idiot, i unlocked my phone and gave it to him. a rookie mistake. richie grinned for a split second before turning his back to me and typing something in the chat for stanley.

“no- rich! dude, shit, give it-” i panicked, trying to grab hold of my phone again. i managed to get his forearm, but it wasn’t enough. “seriously, i don’t even k-know him!” it was too late though. richie turned back around, his message now complete. he held my phone out so i could take it back. i hesitated, looking at my phone for a few seconds before hastily grabbing it back and reading the text he sent.

me: hyey sexy , my nam e is  
me: bill  
me: we should hang out somtethme

richie erupted with laughter after seeing my expression. i was not amused. who knew? this random snapchat guy could be crazy and track me down or something. i started to walk away, not caring to look back and check to see if richie was catching up. 

before i knew it, my phone buzzed in my hand. i looked back down, seeing a new message and the guy’s bitmoji lurking at the bottom of the chat.

stan uris: you drunk?

richie was waving me goodbye. i hadn’t even realized it, but we had passed his house. i waved back and stared back down at my phone, wondering if i should explain. 

me: ha  
me: i wish  
me: sorry though  
me: that was my friend  
me: he grabbed my phone and decided to text a random person  
me: sorry if it weirded you out

i made it to my house after sending the last message, climbing up on my front porch and unlocking the front door. as my backpack slid off of my shoulder onto my kitchen floor, i searched the fridge and freezer for something to throw in the microwave. my parents were having a “date night” tonight, so they wouldn’t be home for a long time.

this stanley guy typed fast.

stan uris: it’s fine. so, i’m assuming we go to the same school?  
me: why do you assume that  
me: i go to derry but i dont know you

way to go, telling people the name of my high school. when my food was done i took it and went upstairs, lighting a candle and digging in with my fork.

stan uris: oh, i found you on snapmap. i moved here last year but i haven’t heard of you either.

i stared at this guy’s messages, a little spooked. sure, maybe i turned my location on for snapmaps, but i didn’t expect him to mention it.

me: so you add someone on snap and your first thought is to check where they live  
me: im not very popular so im not surprised you havent heard of me  
me: are you a freshman

i took this time to stare at his bitmoji. it had light brown curly hair and a polo shirt for his outfit. i wondered what kind of freshman wore polos to high school. stanley, apparently.

stan uris: do you want to be popular?  
stan uris: i’m a junior, by the way. 

i ignored the first question, holding my phone in one hand and my fork in the other. he hadn’t even seen me, all he knows is that i go to the high school, so why did he want to talk to me? i figured he didn’t have many friends.

that was actually kind of sad. maybe i’d be his friend.

me: im a sophomore

i grabbed my journal and hopped up in my windowsill to write, thinking about the benefits. stanley seemed like the nerd type, or maybe even the sporty type. but he was a junior. and henry bowers was a junior too. which meant more protection in the form of numbers if his gang ever surrounded me again. bowers picked on me. bad. luckily he got suspended on the last day of school the year before, meaning he wasn’t allowed to come back until next monday. today was wednesday.

or, maybe there was another benefit. maybe the stanley uris guy wouldn’t make fun of my stutter and mock georgie’s death every time he sees me. maybe we would become good friends. 

or maybe i was just hoping too much.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bowers is back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh sorry i don't update often but i'm trying to fix that! haha stupid ol' mental health gettin in the way

a presence was leaning over my shoulder, watching me work on the packet that our geometry teacher, ms. verona, gave us. i hated geometry, as i did all math classes, but this one was slightly better than algebra. i pretended to not care for a couple seconds, but when their breathing started to bother me, i knew it was richie. he was either cheating or trying to creep me out. “would you s-stop?” i nudged him in the chest. i didn’t care if he cheated, because he’d have to count the grid anyway. 

he did his usual snicker and sat back down. “so, um… what’s your plan for the fight with, uh, bowers? because you’re dead meat, big bill.” richie’s face had suddenly turned serious, which was a definite warning sign. 

i turned in my seat, giving him a look. “why are we… deciding to fight him?” i had no reason to be involved with henry bowers, and if you wanted to, you were just asking for it.

“we?” he asked, a look of amusement on his face. richie shook his head and looked at me. his eyes were… hard to read. “nobody told you? seriously? jesus…” richie was tip-toeing around whatever he was implying, but why he wanted to fight henry bowers on his first day back was beyond me. “it’s not me, big bill. he wants to fight you. after school. i heard some juniors talking about it. how have you not heard?” and then he laughed, like it wasn’t my life on the line.

“wh-why the hell is he tuh-t-trying to fight me? i didn’t do anything!” i said in defense, a pit forming in my stomach. i had been trying to avoid stanley all day, and now i had bowers to worry about too? i looked back at richie, trying to tell if he was being serious or not. but i wasn’t sure he’d joke about anything like this. 

richie shrugged. “he might think that you snitched. you know, last year. when he spray painted the back of the school. he’s a real idiot, you weren’t even there to see him do it.”

i shook my head, my geometry homework seeming a lot less important now. not that it was in the first place, anyway. i needed a plan. “you’re not going t-tuh-t-to help me, are you?” i muttered, putting my head in my hands. my sophomore year was starting to be a shit show. 

“i don’t know how i can help, bill,” he answered, now looking down at his green mechanical pencil. richie was screwing around with the lead, pretending it was a syringe and pushing it into his skin. “i mean, best you could do is hang around with a teacher and get a big group to walk you home. bowers isn’t scared of me and eds.” he was being honest. and i guess that’s what richie is best for.

“yeah, that would be a good idea.” would. if i could find a big group to walk me home. my mind thought back to stan. he was a junior, but i didn’t know what he looked like. i hoped he didn’t know what i looked like, either. maybe he wasn’t intimidating at all. but surely, he’d know someone who did look scary, right?

something about richie caught my attention. he was acting different. nothing i could really put my finger on, but something was definitely off. i couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. maybe wentworth had cancer again? no, that couldn’t be it. he would tell me. richie would definitely tell me about that.

that meant it was something richie tozier had to hide.

the bell rang, and i was thrown into a sea of rambunctious high schoolers walking home for the day. i wasn’t sure what to do. richie’s idea of talking to a teacher until i got to the front doors seemed smart, until i realized i didn’t have much to talk to them about. grades? we didn’t have any posted yet, it was the first week. maybe walking home normally with richie and eddie was my best bet, if i had any bet at all.

my mind went back to stanley, but goddamn it, i didn’t want to meet him today. it would be too stressful. i couldn’t explain why, but i was just dreading us finally meeting up. we had talked so much over the weekend, and it felt like he knew me better than any of my other friends- eddie, beverly, or even richie. but if he actually met me, and knew what i was like, i wasn’t sure i would be able to handle it if he suddenly stopped talking to me. 

is that what i was scared of?

i didn’t have time to think. someone was talking to me. a tall guy. i was out of it, though, and it took me a second to adjust. it was a tall, intimidating black guy. stan was definitely not black. and neither was henry bowers, so i wasn’t too cautious of him to start off with. 

“hey- hey! are you that bill kid? the one henry bowers wants to beat up?”

my arms felt numb. so that’s what it was about. “i’m bill,” i mumbled, not caring if he heard. yes, i was bill. something occurred to me, though. if he was asking who i was, that meant he wasn’t on bowers’ side, right? he must have wanted something else.

“oh. well, where is he? you don’t know, do you?” he smiled at me. not a mischievous one. a genuine one, from what i could tell. i couldn’t tell much, since i was bad at reading emotions.

i sighed. “i-if-” oh god, the stutter. the stutter was back. “if i knew, i wouldn’t be wandering around the h-hu-halls like an idiot. i’d be running the other way.” there were still a lot of kids rushing past us. i hadn’t noticed it, but the black guy and i had stopped next to some lockers, facing each other. chatting. he didn’t seem like a bad guy- i just didn’t know his intentions. “why? friend of yours?” i asked, a bitter look on my face.

“hell no. i’m gonna beat his ass. don’t worry. not just me, a couple of my other friends too. you’ll be the bait- reel him in- and then you run for it.” he turned me around and nudged me forward. this was seeming very obviously like a trap- this guy and his friends were going to surround me, promise me safety, bring me to bowers, and then everyone was going to jump on me at once and kill me. i looked around, i needed an exit. an escape.

luckily there was a fire exit to my right, a little down the hall. past some stairs. if i could outrun this black guy (who was probably on the football team, jesus christ help me), and run all the way home without my lungs collapsing, it would be a miracle. but i would be safe. a real stretch of logic, and part of me was wanting to trust him. but...

“what’s your n-nuh-name?” i asked. i wasn’t sure why, maybe i just felt like throwing him off. making him feel like we were going to have a whole chat. 

we weren’t.

“mike,” he grinned, holding out his hand to shake. he acted how people do when talking to distant relatives at funerals. unnerving. i flashed a quick smile, and dashed down the hall, pushing past a girl and darting straight to the exit. 

i heard the clank of the door shut behind me. where was i going? home, of course. but which way was that? i was behind the high school, somewhere. i could always run in front of the school, but bowers could see me…

the woods. through the woods. i booked it down the hill, remembering the trail richie led me through when we went to derry middle school. when we wanted to sneak around the high school during the summer at night, when nobody was there. it was a weird experience, walking up and down the halls, thinking this will be my school someday...

the distance wasn’t too far, not as far as i remembered it being last time, but that was probably because we had to stop every few minutes in fear of someone catching us back then. this time, i was dodging branches, praying i didn’t get my foot caught in some tree root. this time, a black guy named mike was hunting me down, trying to lure me into bowers’ trap. 

this time, i was in danger.

i got a sudden feeling, an impending sense of doom, so i looked around the woods in a frenzy. i looked behind me. 

nobody.

i knew mike (or someone else) had opened the emergency exit behind me, because i heard the loud metal clanking noise the door made when i had left the school. but whoever had opened it either wasn’t fast enough or didn’t care enough to catch up with me. which was slightly relieving. unless… 

they were watching me.

i knew this place. 

it was right near my house- specifically, behind david hartwell’s house, but i didn’t know that kid too well. i thought back to my house- i would be able to make it, wouldn’t i? i had a bad feeling that henry bowers was waiting somewhere in my neighborhood, with his switchblade in hand, waiting for my arrival.

i couldn’t just wait here. actually, i could. but my parents would get worried...

then i got an idea.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey! didn't mean for these two chapters to come at the same time, i thought i had posted chapter two but it turned out it was just a draft. sorry for the wait, ladies and gents.

my idea was good. it wasn’t some elaborate twelve-step plan, but it was good. what made it so good? well, it would save my ass.

i’d text my dad.

yep. that was it. i was going to text my dad and ask him to stand outside for no specific reason- and if henry bowers and his little hoodlums were around, planning on skinning me alive, well, they’d have to do it another day. i wasn’t worrying about excuses for my dad to come out, no, not yet. if my dad thought i was a little weird, that was fine. that was just fine.

me: hey dad  
me: can you do me a favor and come outside

the only way this would fail is if he didn’t come out, but he wasn’t one to nap at 3 pm, so i knew it would work.

now my only obstacle was the distance between here and my front yard.

i made my way closer to david hartwell’s backyard, not too sure if he’d appreciate a high schooler hiding in the woods behind his house, but that wasn’t important. what was important was that i didn’t see bowers. or, even better, bowers didn’t see me.

the coast was clear. i pulled my phone back out and checked it- nothing from my dad, but i had something from stanley, and a message from beverly. i knew i didn’t have time to respond to either of them, or to sit around and wait for my dad to answer, so i checked behind me once more and walked between david hartwell’s house, and the house beside his, to get to the sidewalk.

i chewed my bottom lip, stopping and craning my head to see if henry’s gang had infested my street yet. my house looked safe, yet still no father outside, so i stepped onto the sidewalk and started walking home, making the dumb mistake of not looking the other way. 

i was choking.

something- well, someone- had grabbed hold of my throat, and i could only come to assume that it was henry himself, if not patrick hockstetter or belch huggins. my arms flew up to start prying and scratching the ever living hell out of whoever’s hands had been clenched around my neck as i made an ugly, throaty noise.

“teach you to fuckin’ rat on us, you little bitch. stuttering ass bitch. you think you’re smart, huh? do ya? fuckin’ DO YA!?” henry bowers screamed, his hot breath smelling like something between bile and rotten eggs. he was in front of me, right in front of my face, screaming, while someone choked me from behind.

my mouth hung open as i gasped and struggled for air, were they going to kill me? seriously kill me?

“tell anyone it was us and you’ll have another thing comin’, big b-b-bill!” henry laughed, starting to celebrate with the rest of his gang. fat, hot tears spilled down my cheeks and down my neck, as henry continued sneering at me. 

my legs fell numb from underneath me; the only thing that was still keeping me upright was this guy’s hands around my neck. someone had pushed me into the grass, but it was too late. 

derry had turned black all of a sudden.


	4. Four

\- STAN'S P.O.V. -

“You met him, right? You saw him?” 

Mike turned to me with a secretive grin on his face. “Yep. I had a whole conversation with the kid and everything. He bolted, though, that’s why I couldn’t bring him to you. Thought I was working for Henry, maybe.” Mike sat down on his couch, slinging his backpack on the floor in front of his feet. It landed with a thud. 

I sighed, sitting down in an armchair across from him. Bill Denbrough. That was quite the name. Bill never wanted to meet up with me, despite me asking multiple times. He wouldn’t call or show me what he looked like either. Part of me wondered if he hated me, or didn’t care about us ever meeting, but that wasn’t it. We talked almost every day. He was nice, funny… he sounded like he had interesting friends, too. There were some he talked about a lot, like Richie, Beverly, and Ben. It had been tugging at me for the past few days. Bill and I went to the same school- walked the same exact halls- and yet he always managed to make an excuse to not meet up.

That was why I sent Mike to go talk to him. He did want to beat up Henry in the end, but I persuaded him to talk to Bill first, and tell me about him. The plan either didn’t work out or Henry bailed, though, because he texted me and told me to come to his house. So much for that.

“So what does he look like?” I finally asked, breaking the silence. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know. Maybe it would be better to wait until we finally met up somewhere after school, but the whole plan in the first place was for me to know how he was. In real life.

Mike smiled at me, leaning back and setting his hands behind his head in that relaxed football dad kind of way. He propped his feet on the table. Mike knew about my crush on Bill without me even having to tell him.

He stood up. “What grade would you like to begin with?” Mike asked, walking over to his TV stand. The shelf underneath his TV was full of pictures of him in elementary and middle school, and he had a ton of yearbooks. I suddenly felt stupid for forgetting that. I could’ve just looked in those to start off with! 

“I don’t know,” I answered, looking down at my hands. There was a loose thread my fingers had discovered and I was now playing with it. My mom hated when I did stuff like that, she said I was ruining my clothes. But she wasn’t here now, was she?

“The beginning is the best place to start, right?” Mike said.

He sat down next to me on the couch, pulling out yearbooks and stacking them down on the coffee table in front of me. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to see what Bill looked like, but I knew that if I didn’t look in the yearbooks with Mike, I’d be wondering about it all night. “Okay. Kindergarten,” I answered. Mike must’ve sensed my hesitation, because he gave me a reassuring smile. One that said, he’s cute, okay? But Mike wasn’t gay. How would he be able to determine if Bill was cute or not? Bill could’ve been his type instead of my type. Did Mike even have a type?

He flipped through all of the higher grade classes and landed on what I could only assume was Bill’s kindergarten class, scanning through the D’s for his last name. Mike then pointed to a kid with a small, chubby looking face, and looked at me. “There he is!”

I craned my neck to look down at the page, glancing over at the names to see if I was looking right. I was. There it said, plainly, William Denbrough. The boy had dark brown, straight hair, and he was looking at the camera as if there was a gun pointed at him from behind it. That made me laugh.The boy was cute enough, but he could’ve changed a lot since kindergarten. For better or for worse. Part of me wanted to stop now.

Mike then handed me another yearbook, one that was flipped open to a more recent year. Last year. I stared down at it, not quite looking for his face, but instead trying to prepare myself. 

What was I even worried about? Bill being ugly? I looked over at Mike as if he had the answer for me. “Did you find him?” he asked, but I just looked back down at the yearbook.

William Denbrough. Fourth one down. My eyes scanned the row, landing on a boy- well, Bill- who…

I squinted a little. He was cute, way cuter than I’d ever expected him to be. His hair was styled the same way as his kindergarten picture, which I found a little weird, but he had clear skin and a cute, sort of petite face… 

“Well? How’s your little loverboy?” Mike asked, staring at me with that grin on his face. If I had any less sense I’d probably be crushing on Mike, too. 

I showed him the picture. “He actually looked like that? When you talked to him?” I asked, assuming he must look either way better or way worse in person. School pictures always did everyone an injustice- including me. “Be honest.”

Mike smiled. “Well, he definitely looks better in real life. You think he’s cute, based on the picture?”

I nodded my head, putting the book down onto the table. “He’s hot, Mike. He’s hot, and he isn’t gay, and he doesn’t even want to meet me. How many times have I asked him to meet up somewhere? Do you even know? He always says he’s busy.” Groaning in frustration, I sank back into the couch cushions and stared at Mike’s coffee table. It would be fine if he didn’t like me romantically. Just meeting him as a friend would’ve been enough for me.

“Do you think he’s scared, maybe? Or his parents are strict?” Mike suggested. 

I pulled my phone out, deciding to text Bill. “If his parents were strict, he would tell me. He would. Then everything would make sense. There’s something else.” 

Me: Hey Bill. I hope you’re safe, I heard about the Bowers thing.  
Me: Anyway, when you get back on, I need to talk to you. Respond when you can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have this!


	5. Five

“hey! mr. denbrough. over here, please.”

i looked up from the notebook i’d been so deeply invested in for all of class, gaze focusing on our gym coach. coach hanson was your typical chad kind of guy, a kind of person i didn’t get along with too well.

for the entirety of gym they made me sit out, just because henry had put me in one of those stupid gray boot things. i’d spent a few days in the hospital before they let me out, which i felt was pretty unnecessary. they could’ve just given it to me and sent me on my way. still, coach wanted to talk to me, and even though i knew i couldn’t be in trouble for anything, i didn’t want to talk to him. i slipped my notebook in my backpack and hoisted the thing over my arm, wondering just when it had gotten so heavy.

he wanted to talk to me about the henry bowers situation. he said it was a real shame he hurt me, that henry bowers was no good, and i was a pretty good kid in his class. he always wanted me to join track, he bugged me about it more toward the beginning of the school year, and he definitely wasn’t afraid to bring it up again. even though i was injured. obviously i declined- but he kept at it, saying once i recovered it would be a good “opportunity” to get involved in exercise. 

i was fine with baseball over track, thank you very much.

still, he was the only teacher that even wanted to talk to me about it. most of the other ones asked how my leg felt, but none of them commented on henry or asked to hold me after class. not that i wanted any of them to. i just found it stupid.

i made my way to the locker room, remembering some dirty gym clothes my mom wanted me to bring home so she could wash. she made a big deal about me bringing them home the night before, so i made sure to actually remember this time. that was when i heard a voice- er, two voices. stopping in my tracks, i stood there and listened, hoping neither of them would walk around to see me. the voices belonged to richie and eddie.

“hah, whatever, eds. so you’re coming this saturday? your mom will let you? if you say it’s bill’s house she probably won’t fuss too much.”

this saturday was richie’s birthday. i clenched my jaw, eyes dead set on the chipped gray paint on the lockers ahead of me. richie told me he wasn’t celebrating his birthday, because it was apparently lame to him now, and he had to go visit “relatives.” just what i thought. i took a risk and moved closer to the corner, peering my head so i could see. eddie had his back to the lockers and richie was in front of him, that stupid asshole grin of his still on his face. 

“yeah. yeah, i’m totally coming,” eddie said back,smiling up at richie. eddie’s emotions were usually pretty easy to read. he didn’t look like he was faking a smile or simply just “having to deal” with richie, as i sometimes put it to beverly. he looked pretty excited for whatever the hell they were planning on saturday.

i walked back to my locker and spun the combination lock. so what if they heard me? i wanted them to hear me. to know i had witnessed their little conversation, that eddie was going to richie’s house. who knew? richie could’ve asked beverly and ben to come, too. that would’ve left me out of the group. alone, to sit at my desk that saturday, doing homework, reading books, and wondering how richie was dealing with his “relatives.” i was suddenly glad the coach held me after class. if he hadn’t taken forever to urge me to join track after my leg healed, i wouldn’t have hung around to see the two of them.

it really pissed me off. in the losers club, we weren’t supposed to have “best friends.” we weren’t supposed to pick sides. this was a complete betrayal, and it made me want to murder richie. seriously murder him.

i noisily opened my locker, the eerie sound of metal scraping on metal. richie and eddie had stopped talking, which had to mean they were done talking. or even better, they heard me. i took my dirty gym clothes- which were neatly tied in an ugly gray walmart bag, and slammed my locker shut again.

“uh, hellooo?” richie asked. his shoes squeaked against the tile as he walked closer to me. i clicked my combination lock back into its place and turned to the door, getting out of derry high as soon as i possibly could. i didn’t know where i was going, i didn’t know why i was running, but i was. i needed away.


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! updates are going to be more consistent now. you're welcome.

That day, I decided to give up on Bill.

The idea that he would ever want to meet up with me just wasn’t feasible anymore. We had met three weeks ago, and every time I asked, he declined- coming up with one reason or another to not see me. For a couple of days, he was in the hospital because of Henry, and that was fair. But everything else? It made me feel like he hated me or something. Even worse, we went to the same school. Bill could’ve always dropped by where I hung out with Mike and a couple seniors, but he didn’t seem to want to do that, either. If we lived in different cities, maybe it would all make sense. But the truth was, we didn’t. Both of us were situated here in Derry, Maine- the most boring city in all of America- and he just had to drag out the time between the two of us finally meeting in person.

I spent a long time trying to figure out why. It wasn’t my personality. We talked a lot. We got along. He told me things that nobody else would know- unless he was lying about that too. Still, we were good friends. Was I annoying? No, if I was annoying he wouldn’t have continued talking to me. Then I started to wonder if the problem was on his end. Maybe he truly just didn’t have time to meet up, or maybe he was nervous. Nervous to meet me. That didn’t make sense, because 1. He was always hanging around with that Richie kid. He even told me so in our messages. If Bill didn’t have “time” to come over to my place, or he didn’t have time for me to come to his, why was Richie the one exception? And 2. What was there for Bill be nervous about? I was nice, he was nice, we got along. I was just beginning to think that maybe… he had something to hide.

And then I saw him.

Or at least I thought I did. Just a boy that looked like him, perhaps. He was sitting a few benches away from me in the park, head down, scribbling furiously in a notebook. Maybe he was writing an angry letter to someone. I wanted to move closer, or maybe yell something, like “Hey kid!” But I didn’t want to scare him off either. What if it wasn’t him? How would I even excuse myself? “Hey, sorry, I thought you were my friend who doesn’t know what I look like. Yeah, weird situation, well, see you!”

Then I remembered I had a way to check. Sure, I could ask him myself, or call Mike up to confirm I wasn’t going crazy. But I had an easier way.

Check SnapMaps. It seemed dumb- he could have his location turned off, or just not have logged onto Snapchat in a long time. I decided to put my bird watching on pause and open Snapchat, sliding up and zooming in on Derry, Maine.

I stared at the screen with a slight smile on my face. It was him, it said the latest he logged in was 4 minutes ago. I got to the park fifteen minutes ago, so there was no mistaking it. Not a doubt in my mind. It had to be him. He looked almost exactly like he did in the yearbook.

Putting my phone away, I sat my bird book and binoculars on my lap and started to think. How? How would I build up the confidence to go and talk to him? How would I speak to him? “Hi, I’m Stanley and I know meeting is weird like this, but I forgive you for making up excuses every day for the past three weeks. Are you going to talk to me now or make more excuses?”

I studied Bill quietly, my mind trying to settle on one plan of action. My eyes travelled down, past his face and chest… his notebook. What the hell was he writing in that thing, anyway?


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, have fun with this. pretty sure my updating schedule is actually coming together so yea, every monday i'll be updating.
> 
> november has already been so crazy for me but you know, have a good month folks.

“hey! hey- um, bill?”

i looked away from my notebook, visibly irked that somebody interrupted me. just at the sight of the guy made me immediately want to rip his eyeballs out. sure, he wasn’t richie. but he was close enough to richie to be a good substitute. 

at first kept silent, only realizing now that he had said my name. he looked like some sort of businessman, all smart and professional. something told me he wasn’t- not a lot of businessmen knew my name. or weren’t balding. then again, i didn’t know a lot of businessmen.

raising my eyebrows, i stared at him without the slightest idea what he could’ve wanted. not a friend of my dad’s, he was way too young. the boy had curly hair, a blue button up shirt, and thin lips. god, he was actually kinda cute. was this bad? i didn’t know how old he was. if i was crushing on an older man, well, it wasn’t really my fault, now was it?

“you, uh- you’re bill.” he looks at me as if to confirm this. “right?”

i nod my head, trying to only use non-verbal signals for as long as this conversation would allow me. he took a seat on my bench, a little far away for my liking. but hey, i still didn’t know who he was. suddenly becoming aware that my notebook was wide open for him to read, i closed it, turning to face him. i doubted he could read my chicken scratch anyway, but i wasn’t taking any chances. 

he took a little while to speak again. i tried to read him as he struggled with his words, but his face wasn’t telling me much.

“i’m… stan. stanley. uh-” he said, setting down a book between us. he laughed nervously, probably put off by the fact i wasn’t speaking, and then held out his hand for me to shake. his face was red, but mine was probably too- i wasn’t sure if it was the heat or how nervous i was.

my heart stopped in my chest. i smiled and gave him a weak handshake, not trying to be rude- this guy was my… crush, and best friend, after all- but i was dying. dying in the sense that i couldn’t get any words out, couldn’t make sense of what was happening. i had too many questions in my head, how did he know who i was, why were we meeting here, did he follow me after i overheard richie, did he like me, did he love me, did he think i was cute, was i giving him a bad first impression? i made eye contact and tried to stop thinking so much. maybe thinking was good, actually, and it was only the overreaction and panic that was bad for me.

“so,” he started, after letting my hand go and resting his own hand on his leg. “do you want me to leave you alone? you looked like you were getting down to business.” he smiled and looked down at my notebook. i must’ve looked confused, because he motioned down to it with his head. “i mean, in there. uh. are you mute? sorry, you just never told me before, unless you did and i uh… i forgot. did you? god, i’m- i’m really sorry.” 

resisting the urge to laugh, i smiled. knowing he was just as nervous as i was felt pretty reassuring. it was also cute. maybe meeting him in person wasn’t so bad, not as terrible as i was thinking or making it up to be. for a few seconds i considered the idea of telling him i was actually mute, but i knew he’d catch me in a lie one way or another.

“no, not m-muh-mute. just don’t l-luh-l-like tuh-talking.” i scratched my neck, feeling sweat drip down my back. i hoped he’d understand just from my stutter alone. 

“oh,” he said immediately, not put off by the stuttering at all. at least not visibly. “well,” he smiled, looking down, making me smile as well. stanley was way cuter than i could’ve ever imagined. “that’s fine. it was really nice to finally talk to you, you know.”

his choice of wording made me suddenly feel bad for blowing him off so many times before. what had i been fearing? stanley not liking me? stan being ugly? i had totally forgotten why i avoided him at this point, but now that it sounded like he was making his leave, i wanted him to stay.

“um, y-yeah. nuh-nice t-tuh-tah-t-tal-talking to y-you, tuh-t-too.” i hated myself. why did i say that? there were a million other sentences i could’ve made, and i chose the one that made it sound like i was fine with him leaving. i wasn’t. i wasn’t fine with him leaving at all. he’d wanted to meet me for so long, and the second we did, he wanted to leave. yet i wanted more.

stanley took his cue and stood up. maybe i made him uncomfortable. shit. i started to feel way worse, what if he never talked to me again? us finally talking in person could have made him stop liking me. and maybe, instead of me avoiding him, he’d always avoid me. start making excuses. maybe our conversations over snapchat would cease entirely.

“okay.” he gave me one last smile. “have a good day, bill.”

he started to walk away, and without knowing it, he made me love him. he, too, made me feel horrible in so many ways. my eyes lingered on him as he walked, as he became smaller and smaller, the distance between us growing. 

once he was out of sight i stared down at my lap, the yellow composition notebook resting in its place. a little to my right, there sat his book.

i smiled. that book meant we would be meeting at least one more time.

one last chance to redeem myself.


	8. Eight

“I’m fucking sick of this.”

It was Mike who broke the silence. Everyone in my friend group was in a pretty crummy mood, even me. If anything, it was their moods that were bringing me down, since I didn’t really have anything to be upset about. Mike got dumped by his girlfriend- for the third time in a row, might I add. Ben Hanscom, one of our newer friends,had to move schools next Tuesday, and Beverly Marsh had been acting distraught all day. She was the one who brought Ben along originally. Something was bothering her since this morning, and even though we offered to listen, she wouldn’t speak of what happened. I decided she might just need some space, and the other guys took a hint and stopped bothering her as well.

The rest of my friend group were some kids from the football team Mike got along with, and they lost their most recent game last Friday. It was a shitty time for all of them, really, but their whole attitude was kind of driving me crazy. 

“S-Stuh-Stan?” 

I jumped a little, not expecting someone to come up behind me. And that stutter, that voice… could only belong to one person.

Turning to face him, my eyes locked with Bill’s. He wasn’t smiling, he had this nervous, unsettling look on his face… so I smiled for him, looking him up and down quickly. Bill looked really nice, not that he didn’t the first time we met, but he was just… so cute today. He had something in his hands.

He smiled back when I did, the unsettling look leaving his face almost immediately. “H-Hey. I texted you, a-ah-asking where you w-wuh-... were…” he stammered, looking at someone behind me for a second. I looked behind me, too, but nobody was there- just Mike, Beverly, the other football guys… Ben…

Then it hit me, what if Bill figured out my plan? My plan to use Mike to get him to me? If he found out, it wouldn’t be the worst thing… after all, I was trying to keep him safe from Henry that day. I didn’t do anything wrong, either.

“Oh, sorry Bill,” I said, noticing his gaze focus back on me. “My phone’s on silent. I’m always just, uh, here, though. In case you need me again,” I said, trying to imply that he should hang out with me more often. These people were starting to wear me out, even if they were my friends… I gave him yet another smile, seeing as those seemed to work on him. 

He nodded, looking down at his feet. I did feel bad for him, having to talk in front of so many people with a stutter would probably make a kid really insecure. 

I didn’t want to be rude, but he was taking a long time to speak. “Hey, so what was it that you needed?” I asked him, reaching out to nudge his side gently. He looked up, smiling sheepishly, as if he were embarrassed or something. 

“I-...” he paused, holding out the thing that was in his hands. It was my book- the bird book I carried around with me since fourth grade. My heart fluttered at Bill’s nervousness, him being so shy over such a simple thing… it made me want to help him, hold him, even though I wasn’t very motherly… fatherly?

“You left it on F-Fuh-Fr-Friday,” Bill explained, looking at me for approval. I took it into my own hands, staring down at Bill, grinning even wider than I was before. “Yeah. I was wondering where that was…” I chuckled to myself, slipping the book into my pocket so I wouldn’t drop it or leave it somewhere again. At this point all of my friends were just watching the two of us, as if we were the most interesting thing that was happening at the moment.

Bill nodded quickly, starting to fidget with his hands the second I took the book back. “S-Suh-So, I… w-wanted to k-kuh-kn-know if… y-you know, we could… like, h-hang out.” He finished his sentence, looking horrified for a moment as he waited for my reaction. He then smiled, beaming that he managed to actually get it out. Maybe he was nervous about asking me in the first place? I knew I would be, if I were in his shoes.

“Yeah,” I said softly, a smile still on my face. It was awkward having all of my friends watch us, and the idea came to me that maybe Bill was nervous in the first place because of them, and not his secret little crush on me. That made me feel stupid, of course, but at least he was coming to me this time. That meant I wouldn’t have to hunt him down anymore, right? No more cat and mouse games. “When and where?” I asked suddenly, noticing there was a pause in our conversation. He was either regretting asking me, or relishing in the fact that he did.

“Um..” Bill said, looking down at my chest and squinting. “Off the tuh-top of my h-huh-head… the Aladdin, the p-puh-park, my house, the Kissing Bridge-” he started, looking up at me swiftly as he said that, a fearful look on his face. “D-Don’t w-wuh-w-worry, we- don’t have to kiss!” he assured me, heat coming to his face. It reminded me of the expression he made in the yearbook.

I covered my mouth and burst into laughter, even if it was a little mean, I just couldn’t help it. Bill was too cute, that look on his face was hilarious… I put my arm around his back, guiding him away from my group of friends. That would make talking a little easier for him, I hoped.

We settled next to a flight of stairs, out of earshot from my friends. They could still see us. I looked back down at Bill, trying to resist the urge to laugh again. “So… not the park. There’s nothing to do there,” I said, trying to think what would be best. Bill’s house… he seemed to slip that into his list pretty quickly. That meant he was nervous, that had to mean he was nervous. Did he want something to happen between us?

“The Aladdin sounds good, if there’s something you want to see,” I suggested. It did sound like a date… and hell, if it was with Bill Denbrough, I’d pay for the whole thing.

He smiled and poked me in the chest. “You go t-tuh-to the p-park all the time. Bird watching,” Bill teased, he was becoming a lot more comfortable now that we were away from everyone else. Maybe it wasn’t so much the nervousness that set him off, maybe it was just… agan, awkward.

“Shh,” I said back, his teasing making me smile even more. “We could meet at the Kissing Bridge. And… not kiss, like you said. Unless, you know, you want a change of plans-”

I wasn’t even sure what got into me. A change of plans? How did I know Bill wasn’t going to out me as a fag to the entire school? 

Heat rose to his face again. He shoved me in the side lightly, as if we were both in on this and he was trying to keep me quiet. “Shut uppp,” he whined, as if my statement implied I was making fun of him for what he’d said earlier. That was fine with me, let him think I was joking.

“So, we meet at the Kissing Bridge and go to the Aladdin. Then we can go to your house, I’ll stay if it isn’t a school night. Or if you even want me to,” I said, making our plans since Bill wasn’t. Bill smiled, making me think we had the same idea in both of our heads.

He nodded quickly. “Of course I w-wuh-wah-want you to… next F-Fuh-Friday?” he suggested, all of his embarrassment seemingly going away… he was stuttering a lot less now, I noticed that, too. 

I smiled and nodded back, confirming our plans. “We can meet there at… six. Deal?”

“Yeah!” Bill exclaimed, adjusting his hold on his backpack. “Thanks for… talking to me,” he said quietly, averting his eyes. Had someone been ignoring him recently? Or did he expect me to… ignore him? To not talk to him at all?

“Hey, it’s no problem, Bill,” I reassured him, watching as he backed away. 

He bit his bottom lip, nodding once again. “Well, I’ve g-guh-gotta walk h-home now. I’ll- I’ll text you! Um, bye.” The smile returned to his face before he turned and walked away. I leaned against the railing of the stairs, watching him fidget with his backpack straps and walk home, a stupid smile on my face. I just got a… date… with Bill. Even better, he came to me this time.

Even better, I knew he wouldn’t flake out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heres your chapter! hope y'all had a good weekend, i kissed my crush so gamer time for me


	9. Nine

today was the day. my (unofficial) date with stan, who i’d asked out semi-confidently last monday. i didn’t think i would be able to do something like that ever again. that day, it just came out of me- i’d needed and wanted him so badly, and even though he did agree to meet me at the kissing bridge and hang out, my confidence would never come back. i was sure of that. i’d pretty much made a fool of myself trying to talk to him, and even if he thought it was the cutest thing ever and did happen to like me back, i still regretted it. not the asking him part- the other part. stammering and sputtering every two seconds like some stupid fangirl who jus met her celebrity crush in every single shitty wattpad fanfiction ever. he made me embarrass myself just by existing. i’d wanted to not fuck up so badly that i ended up completely fucking it. 

that morning, i wore my favorite shirt, the one richie used to tell me i “didn’t look like shit in,” my lucky underwear, and a pair of jeans that fit me at least slightly better than every other pair i owned. for the whole week i’d been scared to death of friday, of finally being alone with him, at the kissing bridge, next to him in the aladdin, alone with him at my house… was it good that i was nervous? or bad? i still wasn’t entirely sure he liked me back, but his attention belonged to me and me only when i talked to him every day after school. to make it less awkward, i decided to see him in person more often. i thought that maybe if i was around him more, i wouldn’t be scared shitless the night we were supposed to hang out. the more often we met up after school, though, it seemed the complete opposite- i’d end up getting too flustered to speak sometimes, and he was always supportive about it, helping me and urging me on… but i felt bad just because he needed to help me. what kind of 15 year old couldn’t get out a whole sentence without the help of his friend?

i stood in my room, pacing. it was almost time for me to leave. five thirty. five thirty-five. scenarios ran through my head as i waited, what would happen? i wanted the two of us to be together, for him to like me, but at the same time it was too scary to think about. things could go horribly, horribly wrong if we dated, and i didn’t want it to be my fault. i didn’t want him to stop loving me out of the blue and break my heart, either...

sliding my wallet into my back pocket and stopping to take a couple more looks in the mirror, i decided it would be better to be early in case something happened. i could always have a run-in with bowers, or my mom could hold me back and question where i was going. the latter wasn’t likely, she never cared where i was off to anymore. i could stand in front of her with a lit match and throw it to the ground, and she wouldn’t question a single thing. i could imagine her now, sitting on the couch with that blank face… every time she got upset she’d either “go out,” or sit in front of the tv and watch stargate for hours on end, eating chips and cookies and ice cream and whatever she could find in our fridge. she wasn’t gaining weight, but my mom was probably developing an eating disorder. not like it was surprising, things just start happening to you when the one son you have that can form coherent sentences is unexpectedly murdered.

before i stepped outside i checked my phone, getting nothing from him, and a few things from richie. but i wasn’t in a rush to answer richie just yet. he’d been asking me all week why i wouldn’t talk to him. yes, i was still upset he picked eddie over me, but now it was his turn to feel that way, i didn’t care if he found out i would be hanging around stanley today or not. it was all the same to me. stanley was my eddie right now.

as i walked i wondered about the possibilities. would he not show up? i knew that wouldn’t happen, something told me he would be there. it’s stanley. 

would anything happen between the two of us? would my secret come out, and him embrace it? or would he leave and never look the other way? i chewed the skin on my bottom lip, zoning out of everything surrounding me. derry was getting chillier, and not for the better. october was cold and bitter enough, and i wasn’t wearing a jacket. a thought popped into my head, would this be like one of those sappy love stories where stanley gives me his jacket? i laughed and smiled to myself, no it wouldn’t. not unless i wanted it to be.

when i finally made it to the kissing bridge, i was surprised to see that he was already there. he seemed surprised, too, that i was early. maybe he was expecting me to be late? or not show at all?

“nice to see you, bill,” stanley greeted, already smiling. he’d been resting his weight against the railing of the bridge, looking over the edge while presumably waiting for me. he didn’t have a jacket either, but instead, a long sleeved sweater. sucked for me.

“hi, uh, nice to see you t-tuh-too.” i was proud of myself, i’d only fucked the sentence up once. 

his gaze wandered away from me, setting on a point past my head. i figured he was just in thought, or maybe he saw a cool bird in the trees. he had an eye for those. i tugged on his arm lightly, gesturing that we should go on.

“who’s that?” stanley asked calmly, looking back down at me for my answer. i turned, to see the one and only richie tozier, who looked as if he might grab me by the throat and toss me over the bridge if he wasn’t such a fucking pussy. not that i wasn’t a pussy either, but i didn’t trash talk every single kid in our school and backed out when they wanted a good fight.

richie started to walk closer to me. “you’ve got new friends bill, i see. that’s mighty nice, you know, you planning on ignoring him for no reason too?” he snapped, staring me in the eye. “or, what, let me guess… is he the one who convinced you i’m not worth talking to anymore?”

i glared back, not the least bit scared of richie. if he still wanted the two of us to be friends, he wouldn’t do anything to me today. we both knew that. “no. y-yuh-y-you don’t get to t-tah-talk. ah-puh-p-parrently eddie is more important to you than i ah-am, s-suh-so me being wuh-with stan shouldn’t be a f-fucking problem.” richie was such a fucking idiot. who was he to say i was a bad friend, when he straight up lied to my face? stanley took my arm, pulling me a few steps away from richie, for safety measures. then he spoke.

“hey. i don’t know what you two have going on right now, but bill obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. if you want him to start again, maybe don’t be such a dick?” stanley suggested.

this obviously didn’t sit well with richie. “who’s he, bill? huh? your fucking boyfriend? if you’re mad about eddie, i’ll let you in on a little secret. the reason we hung out that day, without you? it’s because we’re fucking DATING, bill! we’re dating!” he yelled, he looked furious. “you should’ve known, of all people. you came out before me, even, so how did you not figure out? if you wanted to sit around and watch us fucking make out and touch each other and shit, you could’ve just TOLD ME! maybe you get off on that or something, i don’t know. but i wanted to spend my birthday with my fucking boyfriend, instead of our whole ass fucking friend group. sorry for being so selfish!”

i tensed up, pulling my arm away from stanley’s grasp. richie just outed the both of us in front of stanley. not only that, he pretty much confessed… everything. him and richie were together, i was jealous because i didn’t know and jumped to conclusions… i started to feel like an idiot. i really was a bad friend after all, wasn’t i? the fact they were dating was… surprising, to say the least… and i never saw it coming. 

“you two have a nice night.” richie turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the two of us standing there in shock. 

he was right. how did i not suspect they were together? but the better question- why didn’t richie tell me? richie knew i was gay, which garunteed i would accept him. so, he kept two secrets from me this whole time… neither of them would even hurt to tell me, so why the hell did he keep things like that from me?

i turned around to look at stanley, almost forgetting he was there for a moment. the most concerning thing to me right now was how he’d react. if he was homophobic i was in some deep ass trouble, and if he hadn’t caught what richie said about me at all i was having pure and absolute luck. 

“wow,” stan said softly, he looked a little baffled at what just went down. it must’ve been a lot, for him- to learn two of my friends were gay… and that i was, too. “so, you-?”

“yeah,” i whispered, breaking eye contact with stanley. “just go h-home.” my mood dropped all of a sudden, just because of fucking richie tozier. i needed time to deal with this on my own, and i knew it would be better if stanley did, too. that way he would think about it and realize me being gay wasn’t such a bad thing in the end.

he shook his head, taking my hand again. “you need some cheering up after whatever the hell that was. if it makes you feel any better, i’m gay. too, i mean. wow, uh, four of us? i couldn’t even imagine three,” he said, chuckling awkwardly. “and the fact one of them is you, that’s… again, wow.”

i couldn’t have been any luckier in that moment. my mood was lifted almost instantly- after i finally took in what he said. suddenly i loved how annoying richie was, how he’d tracked me down and yelled at me and called me gay in front of a stranger and made all of this happen. if there was a god, he brought all of this together, he had to.

“really? so who do you l-luh-like?” the words came out of my mouth without any consideration or thought behind them. i suspected that was how richie’s mouth worked most of the time. but it dawned on me that since i didn’t have to question whether stanley was gay or not anymore, i didn’t have to be careful. no, not really. if he was gay, he had to like me. that made sense, right? or was i just selfish? i didn’t care for the answer.

he laughed nervously, looking down at the concrete beneath us. “not gonna answer that,” he told me.

i smiled, lifting my chin in pride. we held hands, making our way from the kissing bridge to the aladdin. just two gay guys in derry, walking and holding hands. now how often did that happen around here?

a question popped into my head that upset me, though: how many boys do you like?

asking would ruin me. if he said any more than one, i’d cry. i didn’t think there was a possibility he had no crushes- when i asked, he acted embarrassed and flustered over it. there was at least one. at least. and that one, or two, or however many crushes he had, could include me. if i was lucky.


	10. Ten

The time I spent with Bill went way better than I expected it to go. I found out Bill was gay- courtesy of his friend Richie Tozier- and Bill didn’t even deny it. He admitted it right there on the spot, without a doubt in the world. He wanted me to go home at first but I stuck around, comforting him and telling him it would be okay. Then I got the confidence to come out too. Bill was pretty much satisfied after that, it seemed like a lot of his anxiety went away after that went down. Not all, but some. We spent our walk to the Aladdin just chatting- about school, life, being gay, and he told me what had happened with Richie. His “friend” that outed him right in front of me. Of course, in hindsight it was a good thing for both of us, but that wasn’t Richie’s intention.

When we got inside, he tried to pay for his ticket, but I wouldn’t let him. It was a date after all, wasn’t it?

The movie wasn’t all that great, but Bill seemed to enjoy it, and he wouldn’t stop talking about it after we got out of the theatre. His stutter seemed to momentarily disappear as he got more comfortable and confident being around me, only coming up a few times when he wasn’t sure what to say. I let him talk most of the way to his house, his excitement was too cute to pass up listening to. 

As we walked to his house, he started shivering. It seemed like both of us were way too worried about how everything would go to think of grabbing a jacket on our way out, but I wrapped my arm around his waist and let him lean against me as he walked. That was the most romantic gesture I could really give him. If he wanted my sweater, I’d be walking around Derry in 47 degree weather without a shirt on.

We got to his house. Both of us changed into our pajamas pretty quickly, and when I got into his room he was already underneath his blankets, staring at me with anticipation. “Cold,” he explained, pulling the blanket closer to his chest. I dropped my backpack in the corner and plopped down on his bed next to him. He pulled me closer, and threw his blanket over me. So there we were, that Friday night, underneath his covers, Bill still freezing his ass off.

Bill’s bedroom was pretty neat. I could only assume he cleaned it in a panic the few hours he had before walking to the Kissing Bridge- or maybe his room was always neat and tidy like it was now. Some notable things in his room included a huge bookshelf, one half filled with actual books, and the other half filled with notebooks. I wasn’t sure why he had so many at first, but then I remembered the one he was writing in the time we first met in the park. A few days after we met, over Snapchat, he also told me he liked to write stories. How many stories did this kid write, for God’s sake? I considered asking him, but decided not to. It wasn’t the time. The other notable thing in his bedroom was a cork board filled with pictures, from a distance I could only assume the vast majority of them were of him and his family, out on vacation or visiting relatives. Something you might see in a white girl’s bedroom. I wanted to get back up and take a closer look, but I had plenty of time to do that later.

As I sat there, lost in thought over his notebooks, I took notice that Bill had been watching every second of it. I turned to him, making him blush deeply and turn away. Apparently boys were just as confusing as girls. Did he want to get caught? Or was that staring completely accidental, unintentional? Only Bill would know.

I wanted to tell him I loved him, all of a sudden. What better time to say it than right now? A consequence of telling him that, if he didn’t like me back, was ruining everything. By everything, I meant my hope. Hope that sooner or later, I’d be with Bill romantically. Hope that he liked me back. If I didn’t have hope, what would I have? 

“Still cold?” I asked, looking at him the way he looked at me before I caught him. He made eye contact this time, nodding and scooting closer like he knew what I was implying, knew what I wanted. I put my arms around him, and he put his arms around me. His head resting on my chest, we stayed there for a while, happy, yet still longing. Still wanting. At least, I was. 

I remembered the question he asked me earlier, about who I liked. If he could ask me that, it was only fair I could ask him in return, right? So I did.

“Who do you like?”

It took forever for the words to come out of my mouth. I spent a little while considering if this was the best thing, the best for me, the best for him, the best thing to say right now, but my thoughts didn’t matter in the end. It came out before I made a real decision. If I were to make that decision now, I would’ve never said it. 

He wasn’t allowed to be mad, either. Again, he asked me. That meant we both have the same curiosity, and if his curiosity came from a different place than mine did, I could say the same. Use his excuse. Ohh, haha, no. I don’t like you either. Such a coincidence both of us are gay and don’t like each other, huh? 

“Someone,” he answered, it didn’t take him long to think about it. “Everyone likes someone, you kuh-k-know?” Bill didn’t look up from my chest, but instead shifted his head.

“Oh,” I said. “Well, does that mean you don’t want to share?”

Bill pulled away from my chest and looked me in the face, smiling. “No… don’t think I want to share. Do you?” he asked, not seeming timid about the subject at all. Did that mean he wasn’t afraid? If he wasn’t afraid, he didn’t like me. Or, did that mean he wanted me to be the one to confess?

There’s only one way to find out, I suppose.

“Bill,” I said quietly. The softness in my tone got his attention, because he was completely focused on me in that moment, the smile from his face gone.

He hesitated, lips parted slightly as he studied my face. “Yeah?” Bill asked, as if it pained him to talk. That was okay. I could do the talking.

“It’s you. I love you, you know that?” I confessed, eyes locking with his.

I’d remember this moment forever, as maybe the first guy I ever asked out, or the first time I’d ever been rejected, or the first boy I dated… 

“Oh sh-shit,” he said almost immediately, pulling away from me. “You do?” Bill asked, looking away from me and biting his bottom lip. 

My arms fell to my lap as Bill pulled away. Why was he acting like this? I didn’t expect him to do- say- that to me, after what I told him, and how he acted all night. Maybe he didn’t like me after all. I sat up straight and narrowed my eyes, watching him closely. “Yes? I do like you.” All of my fears were confirmed now. He hadn’t been afraid of my answer, simply because he didn’t care. He didn’t like me and didn’t expect me to like him, either. It was another boy he had his eyes on, everyone likes someone, you know? 

He pulled his hand up to scratch the side of his face, not daring to look at me. “You do,” he mumbled to himself, as if trying to accept what I was saying.

“Yep,” I replied, trying to keep my voice from breaking. I started to stand up. “And if you don’t like me back, well, that’s fine. I can just walk home,” I offered, smiling. On the inside, I was not smiling.

Bill met my eyes, suddenly looking panicked. “No! I mean, don’t go, don’t go, please-” He jumped up and grabbed my arm, pulling me back down on the bed with him. “I like y-you tuh-t-too. Just, I’m sorry, I couldn’t- couldn’t th-thuh-think.” 

My jaw gaped in disbelief. “Oh my god, I’m so relieved. Bill, I was about to cry,” I told him, watching as he shook his head and smiled. 

“Sorry, I-” he started again, but didn’t finish. Bill just looked at me, neither of us knowing what to say or do next. Part of me wanted to think he wasn’t telling the truth- he didn’t act so thrilled to know his crush liked him back. “What... next?” he asked, looking to me like a lost puppy. I smiled, yet again relieved.

“We date now. If you want.” I took his hand in my own, biting down on the inside flesh of my cheek, waiting for him to say he’s not ready to be in a relationship or some type of bullshit like that.

Instead of making excuses, he actually surprised me with his answer. “Yeah,” he said breathily, smiling again. Bill wasn’t quite looking me in the face, but that was okay. The redness in his cheeks told me he loved me all the same.


End file.
